


Footsteps

by NateChal



Category: Original Work
Genre: Children, Creepy, Horror, Orphans, Paranormal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-20
Updated: 2019-11-20
Packaged: 2021-02-16 06:51:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,470
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21503674
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NateChal/pseuds/NateChal
Summary: Two orphaned children investigate an attic that holds more than just dust, cobwebs, and old boxes.





	Footsteps

There was once a man who lived in Trinity, Newfoundland. His name was Henry Bentsen. Henry was once a jovial man, who loved meeting new people and adored the outdoors. His wife, Penelope Bentsen, lived with him in their stately house on the coast. They were happy together, as content as a rich couple in Newfoundland could be.

Good things, however, never seem to last forever. One day Penelope became ill. She was confined to her bed and told not to go outside lest the sun worsen her condition.

"I'm going to die Henry," she said to him one sunny afternoon. "I want to see the sea one last time."

Henry, who was reluctant to disobey his wife's dying wish, took her to the shore. Her eyes sparkled with the sun's reflection off the water, Henry had never seen her so happy. But just as the doctor had said, the sun was too much for her and she slipped away in his arms.

Henry was wrought with grief, he wept and wept until he fell asleep with her on the sandy shore. Before sleep overcame him he whispered to her, "I'll never let go."

Years passed but the pain in his heart never lifted. He withdrew from society, becoming a recluse, imprisoned by his own misery.

One day Henry heard news of an unfortunate accident. His brother and his brother's wife had gotten into a car accident, they were pronounced dead on the scene. Their children, Jacob and Annabelle Bentsen, would be sent to live with Henry, at least for the time being. There was nowhere else to send them aside from an orphanage, and their parents wouldn't have wanted that.

The day of their arrival came swiftly. Henry sat on the porch and watched a black BMW roll into the driveway, the gravel crunching under its wheels as it came. Two finely dressed children hopped out and gazed up at Henry's house in barely contained awe.

"You must be my brother's children," said Henry.

They nodded as one. The boy was dark haired, tanned, and well groomed. He wore a burgundy polo and crisp jeans. The girl was blonde and pale, in contrast with her brother. She wore a green dress.

"Well," he stood, "come on then. I'll show you to your room."

The trio walked solemnly through well furnished home and up a large set of spiral stairs to a room on the second uppermost floor. Henry opened the door and ushered them inside, "I'll leave you to unpack your things, come downstairs when you're done. I'll prepare a meal."

Later that night after a wonderful dinner of venison, fresh garden vegetables, and homemade breads, Henry put the children to bed and read them a tale from Alice in Wonderland after their persistent demands for a bedtime story.

Jacob and Anna were fast asleep by the time he was half way through, and so he put the book down and left them for the night.

Several hours later Jacob woke to the sound of creaking floor panels above them, "Anna, are you awake?" he asked the darkness.

"Yes," she answered.

"Do you hear that?"

Creak. Creak.

"Yes," she said again. "It sounds like footsteps."

"I think there's an attic above us," said Jacob, "but what's uncle Henry doing up there so late?"

Creak. Creak.

"Jacob, its scaring me."

"Go back to sleep," he told his sister, "it'll stop."

It was morning when they woke again.

The day went well enough. Henry didn't really talk to them unless he had to, and so they were left to wander the property, playing and exploring to their hearts content. Summer was at its peak and school wouldn't be starting for awhile yet.

They had a quieter dinner that evening. Henry tucked them in like he had the previous night and left them to sleep. And, just like the night before and around the same time, Jacob and Anna were woken by the sound of footsteps. This time there were muffled voices as well.

"Jacob?" whispered Anna.

"I know," he replied. "I hear it too."

Creak. Creak. Creak.

"Why does uncle go up there at night?" she asked. "And who is he talking to?"

"We'll take a look tomorrow Anna, get some sleep okay?"

"Okay..."

Morning came. After breakfast they washed up and changed for the day.

"I'm going to the grocer," said Henry, his eyes were baggy and bruised from lack of sleep, "stay on the property."

When he was gone the two children went up to the attic floor and puzzled over the pull-down stairs.

"What now?" asked Anna.

"Umm," Jacob found a footstool and used it to reach the cord. He tried pulling but wasn't strong enough, so instead he clung to the cord and jumped from the stool. The stairs pulled out with a squeal and the children slowly ascended.

"It's dusty in here," Anna commented. "And it smells funny."

"It smells old," said Jacob.

The only object of interest in the musty old attic was a large, ornate chest in the middle of the room. It was trimmed with gold and adorned with unusual designs. Jacob tried opening it but it was latched.

Anna, who was looking out the octagonal window, turned to Jacob, "Uncle is coming!"

Jacob glanced outside and saw that she was right, his car was coming up the driveway, "Lets go before we get in trouble," he said.

They rushed back to their room.

"We'll come back later tonight," Jacob suggested. "Then we'll find out for sure what's in the chest."

True to his word, when they woke up to the creaking footsteps above their room, Jacob and Anna stole away to the attic.

"I'm afraid," Anna pouted, she hugged her teddy bear as distant thunder rolled across the sky.

"Don't be such a scaredy-cat," said Jacob. "Come on."

He pulled down the stairs and helped Anna up after him. The attic was much scarier at night but he wasn't about to admit it to his little sister.

"Where's uncle?" she asked timidly.

Jacob shrugged and made a grunting noise that sounded like "I don't know".

Anna tugged on his sleeve, "Jacob..."

"Not now."

"But, Jacob..."

"What? What is it?"

She pointed a little finger at the chest, it was unlatched. The two children approached cautiously and peered inside. There was nothing there except a moth eaten blanket and pillow.

"I was hoping for treasure," said Jacob, sighing.

Creak. Creak.

Jacob and Anna stood dead still, they didn't want to turn but their curiosity couldn't stop them. When they did turn they expected to find their uncle, instead what they saw was the figure of a woman dressed in a nightgown and partially obscured in shadow, "Are you lost children?" she asked in a voice of honey.

Jacob shook his head and Anna nodded hers.

The woman laughed, "Oh, my dears, maybe I can help you."

"Where's our uncle?" asked Anna.

"Henry? He doesn't come up to visit me very much anymore," said the woman, "and I find myself lonely most nights."

Jacobs blood froze, "What's your name?" he asked, taking Anna's hand.

She took a step towards them, "My name is Penelope. Penelope Bentsen."

Anna sucked in a little breath and whispered, "But you died."

"Oh, no children. As you can see I'm quite well."

"We have to go Anna," said Jacob, his voice cracking.

A flash of lightning lit the attic, illuminating Penelope's figure. She was little more than a skeleton with shrunken skin stretched tight over her bones like dry seaweed. Two hollow sockets stared at them where her eyes should have been.

"Won't you stay with me?" she said, gliding towards them.

"Henry!" Jacob shouted.

The last thing he heard was Anna's cry of terror.

***

Henry Bentsen had disappeared that night. Nobody knew where he'd gone, and frankly nobody bothered asking. What they didn't know, as word of the children moving in hadn't circulated, was that Jacob and Anna had also disappeared. The house eventually fell into disrepair, vines grew up along the outer walls and the paint began to fade.

One day two prospective buyers came to look at the house they were considering to make their home. Upon investigation of the house they found it satisfactory. In need of repairs, there was no doubt of that, but liveable nonetheless.

It wasn't until they entered the attic that their feelings about the house changed, and not for the better. In the attic was a large, beautifully crafted chest. The chest was latched but the would-be homeowners made short work of it with a old hand-axe.

Perhaps they'd wished they never opened it, for inside they found the mummified remains of two children and a woman lovingly embracing them. The children, however, wore permanent masks of stone cold terror.


End file.
